WOFF. (reflecting). I’ll give you a lesson—your palette-knife (cuts away face of the picture).
TRIP. There will be Mr. Cibber with his sneering snuff-box; Mr. Quin with his humourous bludgeon; Mrs. Clive with her tongue; Mr. Snarl with his abuse; and Mr. Soaper with his praise!—but I deserve it all!
WOFF. That green baize—(gets behind easel)—fling it over the easel—so; and now (shewing her face through the picture) you shall criticise criticism, and learn the true weight of goose’s feathers.
(Triplet throws the baize over the picture.)
[Enter Cibber, Clive, Quin, Snarl, and Soaper. Triplet bows humbly. They return his salute carelessly.]
CIB. Ough! Four pair of stairs!
QUIN. Well, where’s the picture? (crossing to R. H. with Clive.)
(They take up positions to look at it.)
TRIP. Mrs. Woffington, gentlemen!
(Triplet removes the baize and suppresses a start.)